Stealing Home (12 page)

I
t had been raining for days.

The first day had been fun. Joey and Bobbie had gone out, despite the downpour, and built little dams out of sticks to hold back the water streaming into the gutters, counting to see how long it would take for the torrent of water to burst the dam and rush, frothing, on its way. They’d made it up to twenty.

But after they got in trouble for tracking mud all over the house, they were confined indoors.

They were miserable. Zeyde was grumpy. The only one who was happy was Aunt Frieda, because her boss, Mr. Turchin, had told her that she was doing such a good job, he had his eye on her for a promotion. This week she was being trained in new office duties. Ever since she’d received the news, she’d been standing a little taller, and
she left each morning with a spring in her step, calling a cheery, “Have a good day!”

What Joey most definitely was not having was a good day. Or a good week. He’d had his fill of Go Fish and Crazy Eights, of checkers and Twenty Questions, of reading the newspaper and listening to the radio and rearranging his bulletin board. Finally, he said to Bobbie, “I don’t care if there’s a hurricane tomorrow, I’m going out.”

The next day dawned overcast and gray. Heavy clouds tinged with black hovered in the sky, practically squatting on the buildings. But it wasn’t raining. “Come on!” he said, grabbing Bobbie’s arm.

He didn’t have to say it twice. Bobbie was out the door almost before he was. They didn’t bring their gloves and the bat; the field would be too muddy for baseball. No matter. They’d head there anyway, see if they could find the kids and figure out something else to do.

Sure enough, the usual gang was there. Vito and Grossie, Louie and Larry. Happily, no Eli and Tommy.

“Want to play hide and seek?” Bobbie suggested. “Or kick the can?”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a thunderclap sounded and the heavens opened. There was a chorus of groans as everyone ran to shelter under the
maple tree. They peered out at the sheeting rain that ran in rivulets over the sodden earth.

“Maybe it won’t last,” Louie said.

“Yeah, sure,” Larry said gloomily.

“Dodgers are playing today,” Bobbie said. “If they don’t get rained out.”

Larry regarded the downpour. “Want to go to our house and listen to the game?”

Vito shook his head. “I can’t stand to be inside for another minute.”

“Me neither,” Joey said.

“Wish we could see the game,” Bobbie said.

“What, at Ebbets Field?” Grossie asked.

“Yeah.”

Grossie laughed. “Me, too. Too bad we don’t have money for tickets.”

Bobbie sighed. “I know. But wouldn’t it be swell?”

“Yeah … see Jackie get a hit,” Louie said. “Maybe even steal a base.”

“Why don’t we go?” Joey said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew this might be trouble. But he was so bored and restless, he felt as if he could jump out of his skin.
And maybe,
he thought with a secret thrill,
I’ll get to see Jackie Robinson play.
“Maybe we won’t have to pay.”

“You mean,
sneak
in?” Vito sounded amazed.

“Yeah. I can do it. Did it at Yankee Stadium.”

“You did?” Larry and Louie said admiringly.

“Sure. Found a loose board under the left field bleachers. Saw the Yanks clobber the Orioles.” Joey sighed. “Some game.”

Bobbie looked excited. “You mean it, Joey?”

“Sure, what have we got to lose? Maybe we’ll get kicked out. Maybe not. Better than standing here with nothing to do but get wet. Who wants to try?” Joey asked.

“Me!” Bobbie exclaimed.

“Me, too,” Vito said.

Grossie looked nervous. “I don’t know. My folks’d kill me if they knew.”

“How are they going to know?” Bobbie said.

“If we get caught.”

Joey flapped a hand. “We won’t get caught. We find a crack, wait till the guards are looking the other way, then slip in. Find some empty seats way up high, nobody wants. It’s a cinch.”

“What d’you think, Lou?” Larry said.

“Daddy’ll give us a licking for sure,” his twin answered.

“I know.”

“Let’s do it anyway.”

Larry shrugged. “Okay!”

Joey looked at Grossie. “What do you say, Grossie?”

“I don’t know …”

“Come on, Grossie,” Bobbie said. “It’ll be fun. How else are you going to see a game?”

“We won’t get caught, Grossie,” Joey said. “Trust me.”

The redhead wavered. “Oh, all right.”

“Attaboy.”

Running footsteps. Then two more figures darted under the tree. Fishkin and Flanagan. Eli sneered at Joey. “You came back for more? So I can finish the job?”

“Stuff it, Eli,” Bobbie said. “We’re not playing here anyway, so you can just save your threats.”

“Yeah, we got something better to do,” Vito said. “So there.”

“Like what?”

“Like going to the Dodgers game,” Louie said.

“You got tickets?” Eli said incredulously.

“We’re going to sneak in,” Larry said. “Joey’s going to show us.”

“
What!
”

“Yes, Joey,” Bobbie snapped. “He’s done it at Yankee Stadium and he’s going to do it here.”

“You’re going to follow him?” Eli laughed. “You’re cracked! You’ll get caught for sure.”

Grossie squirmed nervously.

“Will not,” Joey said.

Tommy shook his head. “Might as well walk over to
the cops and say, ‘Put the handcuffs on me now,’” he said. He stuck out his wrists and guffawed.

Eli turned to his friend. “Come on, Tommy, let’s get away from these losers.” He waved, fluttering his fingers. “Can’t wait to see all of you in the slammer.” Laughing, he and Tommy ran off.

“Good riddance,” Vito muttered.

“Hey, look,” Louie said. “It’s stopped raining. Game’ll be on.”

“Must be a sign,” Bobbie said with a grin. “Now, how are we going to get there? Anybody got money for the streetcar?”

Everybody checked pockets. Vito had thirty-five cents.

“Hey, Mr. Moneybags,” Joey said, “spot us to streetcar fare?”

“Sure.”

“All right, let’s go!”

They got off at Flatbush Avenue, a couple of blocks from the stadium. As they approached it, Joey looked around eagerly. The others had probably been here before, but he never had, and any baseball stadium, even the Dodgers’, was a treat to see.

EBBETS FIELD
read huge letters over the massive entranceway. People milled about, waiting to pass through the turnstiles, crowding to see if any tickets were left.
From inside came the hum of many voices, the garbled echo of a loudspeaker, the peal of the organ.

“I’m scared,” Grossie said.

“Don’t worry,” Joey said, though he didn’t feel so confident anymore. Guards were posted on either side of the entrance, and the outside of the stadium looked as impregnable as a fortress. “Come on, let’s scout the place out.” Sauntering along the sidewalk as if he were just out for a stroll, he headed down a side street, the others in tow.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,” Larry said.

“Take it easy, fellas,” Bobbie said. “Joey’ll figure it out.”

Joey gulped. It had sounded easier standing under the maple tree. The wall along the first base line was solid. They continued around, along right field, then to center. Still no breaks.

“Darn stadium is built too good,” Joey grumbled.

“I don’t know about this,” Grossie said. “Maybe we should just leave now –”

“Relax, Grossie, it’ll be okay,” Vito said. “Right, Joey?”

“Right.”

Grossie took a deep breath. “All right… if you say so.”

Joey led the group around to the left field wall. No breaks there. Then, as they turned the corner where the third base line slanted back toward the entrance, there was an opening. Two sawhorses made a V in front of a
hole in the concrete, which was loosely covered with a sheet of plywood.

Joey made the thumbs-up sign.

“I told you Joey would get us in,” Bobbie said.

Joey’s heart was pounding. Trying to look casual, he glanced up and down the street. No guards. “All right, everybody, listen. I’ll go in first, make sure it’s okay. I’ll signal the next person. We’ll go in one at a time. If somebody comes along, don’t panic. Just walk on like you’re out for a stroll, got it?”

“Hole? What hole, officer?” Vito joked, and everyone laughed, even Grossie.

Looking right and left once more, Joey nudged the plywood aside. The opening was at ground level, about as big as a small child. Bobbie held the wood as Joey dropped to all fours and squeezed through.

“He’s in!” Vito said.

A moment later, Joey’s face appeared at the hole. “Perfect,” he whispered. “We’re under the bleachers at third base. No one’s around. Who’s next?”

“Me!” Bobbie said. A moment later, she squeezed through.

“Peanuts!” a vendor called above their heads. “Get ya peanuts!”

Bobbie looked up. “I can’t believe I’m in Ebbets Field – for free!” Joey felt like a hero.

He motioned first Larry and then Louie inside.

“This is great,” Louie said, straightening up. “You re swell, Joey.”

Joey blushed. “Next,” he whispered, and Vito easily slipped inside, joining the others under the bleachers.

Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the national anthem,
a voice boomed over the loudspeaker. Above them, the bleachers creaked.

Joey leaned through the opening. “Okay, Grossie. Last but not least.”

Grossie bit his lip. “I don’t know, Joey.”

“Come on,” Joey said.

“I don’t think I can get through.”

“Sure you can. It’s bigger than you think. Come on.”

The organ played the opening notes. The crowd began,
Oh, say can you see, by the dawns early light
…

Grossie squeezed his head and shoulders through the opening. “I don’t think –”

“What’s the matter?” Bobbie and the others crowded over Joey’s shoulder.

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight
…

“I can’t do it,” Grossie said. He was on the verge of tears.

“Sure you can, Grossie,” Louie said.

“But what if –”

“You’re okay, Grossie, just take it easy,” Joey said soothingly.

But Grossie pulled his head back and disappeared.

And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air
…

“Grossie!” Bobbie said sharply.

“Leave him to me,” Joey said, and squeezed back outside.

Grossie shook his head nervously. “I’m sorry, Joey, I just –”

“That’s okay.” Joey patted him on the back. “But listen, it’s great in there. The teams are on the field. The game’s about to start. It’ll be so much fun. What do you say?”

Grossie heaved a sigh. “Well… okay.”

“Attaboy. Tell you what, I’ll wait out here and keep watch for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

…
and the home of the brave.
Cheers and applause. Above, the bleachers creaked as people sat down.

Grossie knelt and started squeezing through again.

Whew!
Joey thought. Then, footsteps. Voices. He turned. Halfway down the block and moving fast in his direction, Eli. Tommy. And a security guard.

Eli was pointing. “There!” he shouted. “That’s him.”

“Oh, no,” Joey said. “Come on, Grossie, move!”

On all fours, Grossie turned and looked over his shoulder. “Wha –” He froze.

“Hurry up, Grossie!”

Running footsteps. “Stop!” yelled the guard.

“
Move!
” Joey urged, but Grossie was frozen.

“What’s going on?” Bobbie said from inside.

“Scatter, you guys!” Joey called.

A meaty hand landed on his shoulder. “Hold it. Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The security guard was scowling. Grossie burst into tears.

“What’s the matter?” Bobbie poked her head out. “Uh-oh.”

“Run!” Joey whispered.

Before she could move, the guard yelled, “Charlie!”

From inside, a second security guard came running. “What the – oh, no, you don’t.”

Without letting go of Joey’s collar, the first guard hauled a blubbering Grossie to his feet.

Play ball!
the speaker boomed.

From what he could hear, Joey guessed that Charlie had corralled the four on the inside. As the guard dragged him away, Joey looked over his shoulder. There was no trace of Eli or Tommy.

The six of them sat alone in the office of the Chief of Security. After giving them a tongue-lashing – “If you punks don’t straighten up, you’ll end up behind bars!” –
he’d gone to call their parents, slamming the door behind him.

Now they waited. Grossie’s blubbering subsided into noisy sniffles. Louie and Larry tapped their feet nervously. Vito looked grim, Bobbie, defiant.

Joey heaved a sigh. “Sorry, you guys.”

“For what?” Vito said.

“Getting everybody in trouble.”

“
You
didn’t get us in trouble,” Bobbie said.

“No, I did,” Grossie said heavily.

They all turned to look at him.

“If I hadn’t been so slow … if I hadn’t been such a chicken and held things up –”

“Forget it, Grossie,” Bobbie said. “It was just plain bad luck.”

“That was no bad luck,” Grossie returned. “Didn’t you see?”

“See what?”

“Fishkin and Flanagan. They ratted on us,” he said.

“
What!
” everyone said.

“I saw ’em. They were with the guard. Pointing at us. Right, Joey?”

“Right,” Joey said grimly. He could just imagine how the two of them were laughing now.

“Those rats!” Bobbie said. “Why didn’t you say anything, Joey?”

Joey shrugged. “What good would it do?” Eli and Tommy had done their work. Now the kids were in hot water. And, no matter what they said, it was his fault. They’d trusted him – and he’d let them down.

“You hellion!” Zeyde roared. They were back in the living room. His face was purple.

He glared at Joey. “I assume this was all your doing?”

Joey nodded.

“It was not!” Bobbie said.

Zeyde silenced her with a wave of his hand.

“But Zeyde, we all –”